


Works of Insanity

by Ending_To_Begin



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Anger Management, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Not Really Character Death, Past Torture, not all that graphic just wanted to play safe, possibly ooc Rung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:24:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3672255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ending_To_Begin/pseuds/Ending_To_Begin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would it look like if Rung ever snapped? Even if it was only for a little while, it might be a little ugly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Works of Insanity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tevellon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Tevellon).



Rung's optics shifted dangerously to the corner of his eye so he could look upon the large bot who had just assaulted him. Rung had experienced insult and physical retaliation many times over the years and course if his work, also several times by the bot across from him. But this time, Whirl had struck a nerve.

  


The sudden silence from the smaller mech had halted Whirl's advance. His hand was still held upright from the blow he had dealt to the orange one's face, knocking his peculiar glasses to the floor.

  


"What did you call me?"

  


Rung's eyes narrowed to an even more dangerous angle as he spoke, an unfamiliar edge to his tone that had Whirl rocking back on his heels.

  


"'Worthless, untarnished mini bot' was it?"

  


Rung's head snapped forward, giving the larger bot a full view of the most ravaged expression he had ever seen.

  


"Weak, Unworthy, Cowardly, Spoiled... Useless."

  


Whirl hadn't said those things out loud, rather Rung was listing off what the larger had felt/implied through his still-open EM field.

  


The small bot stepped away from the wall he had stumbled against and Whirl recoiled, this new side of Rung actually beginning to frighten him.

  


Instead if continuing an advance, however, Rung simply went for his glasses. He picked them up off the floor slowly and dusted them off, making sure there was no irreparable damage to the frames.

  


For a brief moment, Whirl thought that the change in Rung's demeanor had been temporary, a façade or bluff to catch him off guard for a short period of time. The thought disappeared, however, as soon as Rung's optics returned to his frame, glasses still in his hand.

  


"Firstly," Rung spoke in his new, and entirely cold tone, "I am NOT a mini bot."

  


At the word 'not' Whirl felt as if something had gripped his internal mechanisms and was slowly squeezing. It was becoming difficult to vent.

  


"Yes, my frame is smaller than most," Rung continued, vocal processors lowering into a deep frequency and making him sound like death, "but in all reality I was not so small at the time of my creation. It was you bots who chose to upgrade and grow beyond normal capacities and I- and I alone- have kept the original form I was graced with..."

  


Whirl coughed, trying his hardest to dispell the pressure in his chest plates, terror spreading through him. The feeling only intensified as Rung stepped closer to him.

  


"You think me 'untarnished'... But you forget, Whirl... BECAUSE of my decision to remain so 'pure' I have been defiled in more ways than your processors can conceive!"

  


Rung's free arm snapped forwards and servos closed on the larger bot's throat. Yanking him downward, Rung bore his denta in a terrifying snarl.

  


"I spent the early part of my life being ridiculed and hunted because my creators somehow FORGOT what my function was! Thousands of years being chased and followed until finally they captured me, and do you know what came after?!"

  


Rung's frame had begun to vibrate slightly with his anger, his optics flashing brightly in Whirl's face.

  


"Two  million  cybertronion years I was held that prime-forsaken prision. Tortured... Starved... Interrogated... Taken apart bit by bit and put back together in slow, painstaking manners, all while I watched. All while I wished to cease functioning.. All  alone . From cell to cell, table to table, tool to agonizing tool.."

  


Rung's optics dimmed for a brief moment and Whirl sensed the smaller was rifling through memories.

  


"Kept alive only so my parts would not rust or disappear.. So that my alternate mode may be properly activated and utilized when it's true purpose is discovered..."

  


The shift from past to present tense unnerved the silent mech, and for good reason. 

Rung's servos tightened and he wrenched Whirl to his knees with a staggering amount of force.

Optics once again flashing brightly, Rung screamed in Whirl's face.

  


"Do you know what it's like to be the only transformer in existence that doesn't have a function?!  Not even the top generations of Cybertronian scientists could figure it out and I am still a mystery ! So I do  this instead! Deal with crazed mechs like you and bring you back from the brink of your own demise- rifling through one crazed mind after another, soothing them, rebuilding, and even repurposing them for the better. I reverse insanity !"

  


A hysterical laugh buzzed loudly through Rung's vocal processor and Whirl felt the mech crush a part of his ventilation pipe. 

Whirls hands shot up to grab and tug at Rung's arm in a feeble attempt to loosen his grip, but to no avail.

  


"And STILL, after all that, I am forgotten! Forced to survive and function, and for what? Just to live alone and in fear, not even my  name ever remembered by anyone?! To be treated as if I do not  matter and have no place among this ship and its crew!!"

  


To Whirl's surprise, Rung's grip suddenly softened enough for him to pull away.

The larger mech squeaked and coughed, repair systems trying to reverse the damage done to his neck while Rung looked on with disinterest.

  


"You all make me sick," he snarled coldly. "You can't even handle basic everyday tasks or a single instance of war without your psyche snapping and your sparks dimming."

  


The smaller snorted and kicked Whirl violently in his side plating. He hit right between the seams and hard enough to drop the rest of his frame to the floor, a messy gush of fluids leaving his body from the tear the blow had caused.

  


"I have been through far worse and  more ," he continued. "Not one cybertronian war has been fought without my presence and not a single leader rose to power without meeting  me some point along the way.

If anything, I am the most important bot who has ever functioned!!"

  


Once again, much to Whirl's surprise, Rung softened considerably. Even his voice this time around had lost its edge and chill.

  


"Despite that... All I ever wanted was to be remembered... I never needed any particular praise or recognition for all I have done and will always do... I just want to be known as more than 'the useless one.'.. I want to be more than this wretched ornamental transformer..."

  


Leaning down to look Whirl in the face, Rung whispered quietly to the dying mech, "I'm worth more than that. I am Rung... Forever."

  


-

  


With a small flash and click, the hologram projector turned off, leaving Rung staring at a faceless metal drone. 

  


The small bot sighed and hung his head, exhausted from his performance. Dredging up such passionate rage, anger, and despair was not easy on his systems.

  


Sighing again, Rung remotely triggered the locking mechanism on one of his many office closets, making it slide open to reveal two or three similar drones standing neatly along its walls.

  


Rung then silently dragged the drone he had been using back into its own place and retriggered the lock to once again hide his tools from curious eyes.

  


Still staying quiet, he then removed his mini hologram projector from a shelf to place it back in one of his many locking desk drawers.

  


It was only when Rung lowered himself down onto his couch that he made another sound; This time it being a cross between a grunt and a sob.

  


How he abhorred the use of violence and often the use of such a treatment as he had just used, and yet he felt relieved. Knowing it was not real also made it much easier.

Seldom such terrible thoughts to damage or lash out so terribly crossed his mind, but over time they would build until Rung felt on the brink of explosion. And so explode he did, in the silence and safety if his own office under extremely controlled conditions and, even then, only rarely... Perhaps once every few centuries. It was as much a preventative measure as it was a healing one. 

  


Covering his eyes with his hand, Rung finally tears spill, allowing the last of his emotional outburst to leave him in the large droplets.

  


He stayed like that for some time, venting and crying quietly until exhaustion finally overtook his frame and recharge became absolutely necessary.

  


Wiping the liquid away, Rung returned his nearly forgotten glasses to his nose and decided to turn in for the evening, grateful his final patient session was completed for the day.

  


... 

  


Who says psychoanalysts never needed therapy?

**Author's Note:**

> My sincerest apologies for any fallacies or out of character moments. I am still trying to get a grip on the Transformers universe (and unfortunately fell head-over-heels for Rung far too quickly... I don't even know his mannerisms yet... and yet...Gods he is so CUTE... And kinda badass for being who he is and surviving as much as he has...).  
> Anyway! I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> This was a gift for Tevellon who has been drowning me in the Transformers universe for several months now.


End file.
